when breathing was no longer second nature
by xoxomolls
Summary: "You're all just kids, wondering when your life became a bloodbath." Scallison. Stydia. Allydia. Scydia. Scisaac. Scerek. Etc. Oneshot. Angst.


::

"There wasn't a pact or anything. It just… happened."

::

"Don't do this, Allison. Please don't do this."

But she's already gone and you're left holding onto a dead girl.

_I love you, Scott McCall. _

"I love you too, Allison Argent."

You don't know how long you sit there, the only girl you've ever loved in your arms. But eventually, there's a hand on your shoulder and Stiles is begging you to get up.

And then she's being pulled away from you and you're screaming and screaming and _oh god, not her, please not her._

But your hearing is too perfect for you to try and pretend that her heartbeat is just quiet.

Isaac grips your shoulders and you can see his mouth moving, but everything fades away except the silence. He shakes you and you stumble backwards, but it's all in slow motion and this can't be real.

"Scott! The cops are on their way; you have to pull it together!"

Maybe it's because Allison's dad is the one to say it. Maybe it's because you can see Lydia falling apart against Stiles. Or maybe it's because you know this isn't a nightmare. And there's nothing to wake up from.

It's all a blur of sirens and questions and _itjusthappenedsofast._

By the time it's all over you're tired and you just want to forget the last twenty four hours. Lydia tucks herself into your side and you're both silent when you drive her home.

You punch your hand through a wall when you're inside your house because you just can't pretend everything is okay anymore.

You doubt anything will ever be okay again.

And then you realize that you don't want to be okay again. You want to be with Allison.

Your note is only two words.

_I'm sorry. _

You know it's not enough. Not for your mom or Stiles or Lydia or Isaac. But it's the most you can give them when you've just lost every other part of yourself.

You take your dad's old gun to your head and close your eyes.

And pull the trigger.

::

This can't be happening.

It's not real. It's not real. It's not real.

Allison isn't dead and your best friend didn't just blow his head off.

There isn't a monster walking around with your face on and your dad isn't sitting in front of you with an expression that screams pity.

You really should have expected this though.

Scott loved Allison.

More than anyone.

More than himself.

More than you.

It's not such a far fetched thought that he'd give up everything to be with her. You can still see the look on his face when he saw her for the first time. You practically saw him fall in love.

_"I kissed her." _

_"I saw." _

_"She kissed me."_

_"Saw that too."_

If you didn't hate yourself so much, you might have had room to hate Allison in that moment. You might have said that your best friend, your brother, was dead because of her.

But no. They're both dead because of you.

So why are you still breathing?

::

You can't find Stiles.

Normally, you'd write it off as him being with Scott.

But you were there when the Sheriff told you that Scott was dead. You were there when the light left Stiles's eyes. You were there when he shook his head and stormed out of the room.

Part of you wants to pinch yourself until you wake up.

Because this has to be a nightmare. It just… has to be.

Allison can't be gone.

But you know she is. You knew it was going to happen before it did. You weren't even there to watch her fall. But you felt it. You held onto Stiles and you screamed and screamed because maybe if you screamed loud enough, she would hear you and come back.

You can't focus on that now.

You have to find Stiles. You just have to find Stiles.

You take the stairs three at a time, leaving your heels behind and shove the door to the roof open. And then you want to exhale in relief because you found him.

Until you notice that one foot is over the railing already.

"Stiles?"

He barely glances back at you and you shake your head fiercely, not caring that there are mascara streaks running down your face or that your vision is blurred by your tears.

"I'm sorry, Lydia. I just don't think I can watch anyone else die."

"What about me? I'm going to have to watch _you _die! Don't you even care about me at all?"

He spins around to glare at you, but you can see the desperation and pain in his expression. It makes you feel sick. "That's why I have to do this! I can't watch you die too. I just can't. I love you too much to watch you die because of me."

You step closer to him and he takes a step back. You can feel your knees shaking as you watch him get closer and closer to the ledge.

"Please don't do this, Stiles." You're begging now.

He looks at you with watery eyes and shakes his head. "I'm sorry."

And he leans back, his arms spread wide.

_You can't lose him too. _

And then you're running, your body slamming into his and you're both falling. He wraps his arms around you in shock and you hook your own around his neck.

The concrete is rushing towards you and you slam your lips against his.

"I love you."

"I love you too." He kisses you again and the world bursts into color for the first time since Allison.

And then it all goes black.

::

You don't know when everything got so screwed up.

You miss Erica. And Boyd.

You miss when everything was simple and you were just a normal teenager. Well, as normal as a kid with an abusive father can be.

It feels like the walls are closing in and you just want it all to stop.

And Scott is the last straw.

He was the only friend you had left. The only person you trusted. And now he was dead too.

Sometimes you really hate being a werewolf. Especially when you can hear the gunshot and the sound of his body when it hits the floor. You can smell the blood pouring onto the carpet and you can taste the iron in your mouth.

And no matter how many shots of alcohol you toss down your throat or how many candles you light, you can't get rid of it.

You've always had more self-control than most, but you can't control this and it scares you.

You know you don't have a right to feel like this.

Not when Stiles and Lydia have known him for years and are probably curled up together in a mess of tears and begging.

Not when you tried to steal his girlfriend.

Not when you let it get this far.

Your head hurts and your knuckles are bruised and you don't know what to do anymore.

Scott is dead. He's gone and he isn't coming back and you aren't sure how to deal with that. So you stand up and walk out the door, ignoring the cold air seeping into your pores. You walk until a familiar building comes into view and you walk until you're sitting on the side of the pool, staring at the water in front of you.

The water is freezing and it makes your teeth chatter, but you still wade out into the deep end and take a deep breath and let it out. Then you let yourself sink to the bottom until the grainy floor brushes against your cheek. And you hold yourself down until your lungs beg for air and you feel like your whole body is going to explode. You force your body to stay until the blackness starts to creep in on the corners of your vision. And even then, you don't move.

(you've always had more self-control than most)

::

The sheriff is screaming in your face, angry words as his fingers jabs into your chest, and if it was under any other circumstances, you would have thrown him off and probably killed him. But you can see the vein throbbing in his neck and the pain in his eyes, so you take each brutal sentence, waiting until his shoulders drop and he sinks into a chair, his head in his hands.

"Seven kids are dead, Derek. Including my sons! Now tell me what happened or I swear to god, I will go out and find a silver bullet and shoot you through the skull."

You aren't surprised that he considers both Stiles and Scott his family. You know that Scott has been firmly implanted in the Stilinskis' life since he met Stiles in first grade. You wish that you could go back in time and take the sheriff's pain away because you know it's not going to leave on its own. You know how it feels to lose everyone you've ever called family. You watched your old family burn and after you met Scott, you'd sworn to yourself that you wouldn't let it happen to your new one. But it had and here you were, standing alone in the wreckage. Again.

"There wasn't a pact or anything. It just... happened. I can't tell you every thought that was going through their heads, but I can tell you what I know. I know that Scott loved Allison with everything he had. I know that he would do anything for her. Even if it meant giving up everything. I know that Stiles has always seen Scott as more than a best friend. They were brothers. And I know that he would die for Scott. I know that Lydia loved Scott and Allison. I know that she loved your son too. Enough to follow him off a rooftop. And I know that Isaac only trusted one person in his life. Scott. And I know that nothing on this earth could have stopped any of them from doing what they did. Not even you."

You smile sadly, even as your throat starts closing up and your heart starts beating too fast. "That's what pack means. Stand together. Fall together."

Sheriff Stilinski looks at you for a second before his eyes widen in horror. He catches you as you start to fall, holding your head against his chest. Your body starts to shake and you know it's almost over.

He screams for an ambulance, but you know he can tell it's too late. You know he can smell the wolfs-bane now. You know that he understands what it means. You know that he's the only one who will know what really happened.

"Why? Why would you do this, Derek?"

"Because I already lost one family. And I can't lose another one. I'm sorry."

And then your heart stops.

::

There was never a pact.

Except there kind of was.

::


End file.
